Stop the Convention

No, I’ve had it; and I think the nation has had it too. This business of national political conventions has got to stop.

As my colleague Drew Ferguson recentlydemonstrated, the Libertarian Party convention is still of human interest. It is, after all, a place where ideas matter, and personalities too — the more colorful, the better. But as for the Republicans and the Democrats . . . sorry, we’ve reached the end.

As a reporter for this journal, I attended what I believe to have been the last real nominating convention of a major party, the Republican National Convention of 1996 (Liberty, November 1996, pp. 18–25). The event was almost entirely staged in advance, and the huckster room — the place where people sell pictures and trinkets and “literature” and elephants (or donkeys) — was by far the most interesting thing about it. But there was a moment when Pat Buchanan, the idol of the right-wingers, appeared unauthorized on the convention floor, and almost took the assembly away with him. From the point of view of political interest, that almost made the convention legitimate.

But nothing like that could have been expected of the Romney and Obama séances. In place of real drama, or real decision-making, what we witnessed — and very, very few Americans could be cajoled into witnessing it — was two dopey, incompetent infomercials, filled with obvious lies and the kind of product demonstrations that would make any seller of male restoration medications blush.

The trappings of old-fashioned, drama-filled conventions were retained — the platform report, the roll call, the nominating speeches — all useless, all precrafted by nameless political hacks, or discredited former office-holders (Bill Clinton, of all people, masquerading as the sage elder statesman). And all a gigantic bore.

I swear to God, after Obama’s speech at his convention, the folks on CNN actually said, “Let’s get some reaction from the delegates on the floor.” As if the nation needed to hear the “reactions” of the loser religious fanatics who populate these mobs, people regarded with sovereign contempt by the leaders of their own parties.

“Excuse me, Ms. Four Hundred Pounder, esteemed delegate from East Overshoe, Ohio, ‘employed’ as a ‘union representative’ in a public ‘school,’ and currently decorated from toe to top with goofy political buttons, can you tell us what you thought of the president’s speech?”

What’s the probability that Ms. Pounder will say, “I thought that guy was the biggest tool that ever afflicted our country”?

A synonym for “boring” is “predictable.” Now, what can be more predictable than 40 hours of astute political commentary by Democratic office-holders and other parasites about the virtues of the preordained Democratic nominee? (Substitute “Republican” in the appropriate places, and you’ll get the same effect.) Answer: speeches by the spouses of the nominees, extolling (what a surprise) their hubbies’ qualifications to be president.

In ages past, the very idea of such a speech would have been regarded as the kiss of death for any political candidate. A man is on trial for stealing from the collection plate (which is what all politicians do), and his best witness turns out to be . . . his wife? Good God! And the speeches of Mrs. Romney and Mrs. Obama, as bad as they were, were regarded by some professional political commentators as the best ones at the conventions.

There are so many awful moments to remember . . . I’ll single out just one: President Obama, apparently having nothing better to do, entering the convention hall to listen to himself being extolled by former President Clinton — who is, according to David Gergen, “the most effective speaker in America.“ Clinton, by the way, is universally known to be Obama’s bitter enemy, because of Clinton’s desire to have his (own) wife elected, so the whole affair was an exercise in what everyone knew to be in-yo-face hypocrisy. What a picture! — rivaled only by that of Mr. Obama, rushing out to hug Mr. Clinton at the end of the latter’s address.

What we witnessed was two dopey, incompetent infomercials, filled with obvious lies and the kind of product demonstrations that would make any seller of male restoration medications blush

But listen: this business of relatives is completely out of hand. First there was the Kennedy family (creeps). Then the Bush family (dolts). Now the Clinton family (real, dedicated weirdos). But to return . . . This notion of a person listening to his own nomination speech, then going onstage to hug the speaker, would have filled any previous candidate with horror. It just wasn’t done. By anybody. It wasn’t even thought of. Why? Because there was (often) a reality, and (sometimes) a decorous pretense, that real business was being conducted at a national convention, that real people were deciding whether to nominate this real person or that real person for a real and important office, and that before the nomination was made, it behooved that person to show respect, and stay away.

For whatever reason, Barack Obama couldn’t stand to do that. He had to take the stage in his own infomercial. Following which there was a roll-call “vote” of the “delegates.” What do you suppose would have happened if a group of those common people, so much extolled throughout the two parties’ conventions, had arisen to cast a vote for somebody besides the preordained candidate? There would have been a lynching, at the least. Yet these are supposed to be deliberative assemblies.

I say, away with them all. They are nothing but attempts at cheap publicity, and like all such attempts, they get cheaper and cheaper. From now on, hold your silly primaries, cast your votes in your corrupt state party committees, tabulate the results by computer, and nominate your person. Stop the masquerade. It isn’t funny anymore.

About this Author

Stephen Cox is editor of Liberty, and a professor of literature at the University of California San Diego. His recent books include The Big House: Image and Reality of the American Prison and American Christianity: The Continuing Revolution.